The Responsible One
by Sand-wolf579
Summary: José accidentally hurts himself, and he's reluctant to let the others help him.


**A/N:** **This was a story request. I hope that it's good (I always feel self-conscious about the stories that I write that others have requested, even though they usually turn out okay). I have another one-shot in mind based off of another Three Caballeros story request. I'm not saying that I'll write something for every single request that I get, but if I get inspired to, I will certainly try.**

* * *

José had always considered himself a fun, energetic, and sometimes overly excitable individual. And then he had met Donald and Panchito, and José had realized just how levelheaded he was in comparison. Panchito was loud, easily excited, and full of life. Donald was quick to anger and he simultaneously wore his heart on his sleeve, and hid his emotions behind a steel barrier. Donald occasionally threw temper tantrums like that of a child, and sometimes Panchito's naiveté and careless enthusiasm seemed much more befitting of a child as well.

José didn't think badly of his friends because of their immature natures. If anything, he actually really admired them for it, even though there were times when he just felt so exhausted keeping Panchito from doing something that could get him hurt, and calming Donald from his latest rage, that he almost felt like he was their babysitter.

Moments like this were definitely the exception though. Most of the time, José had a lot of fun with his fellow Caballeros. Their energy was absolutely contagious, and they made his life more exciting. José loved going on adventures with Donald and Panchito, and he always looked forward to their next adventure together, though sometimes he did wish that their adventures were a little less life threatening. Just because José was more open to potentially dangerous situations did not mean he had the desire to go searching them out.

As much as José had started to enjoy the new exciting life that he now lived, he still loved the moments where he could just sit back and relax...well, maybe not _relax,_ as José didn't know just how relaxing a popcorn war or game of 'the floor is lava' was, but at least these games weren't dangerous.

At least, hypothetically they weren't, but José had nearly forgotten that even when evil sorcerers weren't around, accidents still happened.

José stood in front of the bathroom mirror and opened his mouth wide. He flinched as his tongue accidentally brushed up against the roof of his mouth. That stung a lot more than he had expected it to. Moving slowly and carefully, José stuck his tongue out and leaned forward so he could get a good look at it. He winced at what he saw.

José sighed and tentatively touched his tongue with his finger. He and Donald had allowed Panchito to drag them into a game of the floor is lava. And somehow, with all of the furniture they had available to jump on in the cabana, all three of them had ended up crowded on the same bookcase, and José had lost his balance and fallen to the ground. The fall itself had hurt quite a bit, but the impact had caused him to accidentally bite his tongue, and now he was bleeding.

José turned the water faucet at the sink and cupped his hands under the stream of water. He gathered some water in his hands, and then brought it to his mouth. José let the water rest in his mouth for a moment before he slowly began to swish is around. After doing this for a moment José spit the water out and grimaced when he saw how red the previously clear water was.

Well, at least he knew that he had gotten some blood out of his mouth.

José took another look at his tongue in the mirror and was relieved that he could actually see the cut now. Before, his tongue had been too covered in blood to even make out the cut at all. Even now, José could see the blood beginning to gather from where he had bit through his tongue, but at least now he knew that the cut wasn't as large as he had worried it was. The cut was actually really small and didn't seem to be that serious. It just bled a lot more than it looked like it should, which was concerning, but manageable.

José grabbed a small washcloth and soaked it in water. He eyed the bar of soap on the kitchen sink for a moment before he shook his head and wrung out the washcloth. He knew injuries should be disinfected, but he didn't think that soap was the right way to go about doing that. Especially when the injury was in his mouth. If it looked like his cut was going to get infected, maybe he would try it, but if he didn't have to he would rather not.

Taking the damp washcloth, José carefully began to dab around the cut to clear up some blood. Once the area around the cut was fairly clean, José braced himself and gently put the washcloth on the cut itself. It stung, as he had known it would, but it wasn't unbearable. José continued to dab at the cut until he heard a sharp knocking at the door. Startled, José used a little more pressure than he meant to on his cut, and the pain was so sharp and sudden that he couldn't help but squawk in pain.

"José?" Panchito's concerned voice came through the door. "Are you alright in there?"

José flinched slightly at the interupted. "S-sim, I'm fine." José flinched and whimpered slightly when his tongue brushed up against the roof of his mouth at his words. It hurt a lot more than it had before.

"Are you sure?" Panchito asked, sounding even more worried. "You don't sound fine."

"I-I'm sure." José double checked that there was no sign of an injury on his beak before he turned and opened the door. He could see Panchito's concerned expression, but he didn't give his friend the chance to ask what had happened. José just walked right past Panchito and headed to the secret room downstairs.

He knew that he was being rude, and he made a mental note to apologize to Panchito later, but José knew that if he stayed then his friend would figure out that he was hurt. The injury was still bleeding, and it was bad enough that if José had stayed to try to come up with an excuse, Panchito might have seen the blood on his tongue. Either that, or he would have noticed the way that José flinched when he said certain words and caused his tongue to brush against the roof of his mouth.

José felt bad for hiding his injury from his friends, but he didn't want to worry them. Donald and Panchito were so easily excited. José could see the two of them freaking out over his cut when it really wasn't all that bad. It stung, and the amount of blood was a little concerning, but José could handle it on his own.

Maybe it was because Donald and Panchito acted so childishly sometimes, but José felt the need to be the responsible one in their group. He was the one who played mediator when Panchito's calmly spoken but surprisingly biting remarks went too far, or Donald's temper was unfairly misdirected. José was the one who gave Donald advice on how to woo Daisy, and he was the one who cheered up Panchito when the rooster felt like Donald was ignoring them.

José knew they weren't brothers, but sometimes he certainly felt like they were. As no-quite-but-might-as-well-be brothers, José naturally slid into the role of the older brother. He didn't know if he was actually older than Panchito and Donald, but he still assumed the role. After all, somebody had to make sure that Panchito and Donald didn't take things too far, that they were safe.

José couldn't bring himself to potentially worry his friends. It was _his_ job to worry about _them._ He didn't know if the knowledge that he was injured would cause Panchito and Donald to do something foolish, but it might, so José just thought that it was best if he kept his cut to himself.

José took the washcloth that was still in his hand and again tried to clean around the wound, but too much blood had gathered in his mouth, and he couldn't see where the cut was. José only succeeded in irritating his wound even more. José hissed in pain and annoyance and just gave up. He didn't know if he could do this without a mirror, and the mirror was back upstairs where the others were. So he could either treat his injury properly, or keep this hidden from the others.

José didn't know what to choose, but his decision was taken from him when he heard Panchito's voice coming from upstairs. "José, are you down there?"

José was tempted to not answer, but he knew that if he didn't, Panchito would come downstairs anyways. "I'm here." José answered. He sighed and turned to face his friend as he came thundering down the stairs. If he had thought that Panchito had looked concerned before, it was nothing compared to now.

"Are you alright?" Panchito asked in a tone that was must quieter and serious than it should be. José hated that his friend was so concerned. Yes, he was hurt, but it really wasn't enough to get this worked up about. "Why did you run off so quickly? Are you mad that you got hurt during our game?"

"What? No!" José said loudly. "I'm not mad, I promise, I just…" José winced and moved his tongue around in an attempt to get some blood out of the way. If anything, that just served to make the blood flow even more. José needed to get the blood out of his mouth, but the only way he could do that was to swallow it, which could be rather dangerous, or spit it out, which would cause Panchito to think that the problem was much worse than it really was.

Finally José couldn't stand the feeling or taste of all that blood in his mouth. He brought the washcloth up to his mouth and spit as much blood out as he could. The talking and movements had made his tongue feel even more sore than before. José groaned and put a hand to his beak. Panchito went to José's side and frowned when he saw the bloody washcloth.

"Are you...hurt?" Panchito asked.

José refused to meet his friend's gaze as he nodded. "It's not that bad." José said carefully as he did his best to keep his cut from rubbing against the roof of his mouth.

"Can I see?" Panchito asked calmly. José reluctantly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He had leaned his head back to give Panchito a better look, but when his friend saw the blood he knelt on the ground and made José tilt his head forward.

"It's never fun to swallow blood." Panchito said as he leaned in close to get a better look. "Hm. Did you bite your tongue earlier?"

José nodded and Panchito smiled gently at him. "Ah, I hate it when that happens. I used to bite my tongue all the time when I was little. Hang on a moment, I think I know how to numb the pain a little." Panchito stood up and took a deep breath. José barely had time to brace himself before the rooster let out a loud cry that could probably be heard by the whole neighborhood. "DONALD!"

José was glad that he wasn't the one that Panchito was calling for, because he would probably be scared out of his mind if he heard one of his friends screaming for him like that. Donald apparently had no such issues, as he didn't look concerned when he showed up at the top of the stairs, merely annoyed. "What's all the yelling for?" Donald asked irritably.

"Can you get us some ice?" Panchito asked with a smile. "José bit his tongue."

Donald rolled his eyes, but he went back upstairs to get what was asked of him anyways. While Donald was gone, Panchito took the washcloth from José and used the cleaner side to clean the area around the small cut.

"I almost forgot how much one little tongue can bleed." Panchito said conversationally. He was a lot calmer about this than José had thought he would be. Panchito made this seem more like a minor inconvenience than an injury that had been the result of his game.

A few moments later Donald made his way back down the stairs, a small cup of ice in one hand, and a fresh washcloth and some painkiller in the other. Donald gestured for Panchito to remove the bloody washcloth, and then he gave José the painkiller.

"Take this." Donald said, sounding remarkably like a parent tending to a hurt child. As José swallowed the pill Donald put some pieces of ice on the washcloth and then folded it to make a makeshift ice pack. "Put this on your tongue for a few minutes. Take it off if it begins to hurt too much."

José nodded as he accepted the ice pack, but he didn't put it in his mouth yet. "The two of you are taking this better than I thought you would." Panchito and Donald exchanged glances.

"Well, yeah, why wouldn't we?" Panchito asked. "It's just a little cut. Nothing to panic about. I've gotten worse injuries than that by tripping over my own feet." José didn't doubt that. He had known that Panchito could be careless sometimes, he just hadn't considered that Panchito had dealt with injuries that he hadn't bounced back from immediately, and a small cut tongue was nothing in comparison.

Donald huffed, looking slightly irritated, though José guessed that it was more for show than anything. "You have no idea how many times one of my boys has bit their tongue. The first time it happened, I thought Huey was dying because I didn't know where all of the blood was coming from." Donald shook his head.

"Oh, yeah," Panchito nodded. "I forgot you had nephews."

So had José. Donald did seem like the type of fellow who would panic at the smallest little injury, but after watching over his nephews for so many years, he must have gotten used to taking care of the little bumps and bruises. José should have known that he wouldn't freak out.

He should have known that his friends would have been able to help him without making things worse.

"I'm sorry," José said sincerely. "For not telling you right away."

Donald opened his mouth, probably to ask José why he hadn't come to them in the first place, but Panchito put a hand over the duck's mouth.

"It's alright." Panchito said easily. "It is easy to forget the simple things that we should do when we're hurt, but that's why we have amigos, so they can pick up the slack, yes?"

"Yes." Donald agreed.

"Sim." José said as he put the ice pack on his tongue. He knew that he hadn't forgotten to tell Panchito and Donald, he simply hadn't _wanted_ to tell them. Of course, now he realized that he really should have. Just because José felt responsible for his friends didn't mean that he shouldn't allow himself to count on them should he have to.

They were all partners, which meant that they watched each other's backs. José may be the most level-headed, but he could sometimes get so caught up in doing something for the greater good that he forgot to actually look carefully at the situation. Panchito may be childish sometimes, but he was also incredibly kind and gentle. And even though Donald definitely had anger issues that they needed to work through, he was fiercely protective over those that he cared about, and that included them.

José still considered himself to be the one to make sure that Donald and Panchito didn't get themselves into a situation that they couldn't get out of, but maybe he should open up and allow them to do the same thing for him.

...maybe.


End file.
